Muse
by OhMyWord
Summary: I listened to his deep, quiet voice and wondered what it would sound like if he whispered in my ear.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: There are pictures for this one; I hope you like it. I have lots of pretty scintillating ideas for upcoming chapters; this story is complete fantasy for me.

Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone.

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One

I've taken this tour so many times I could probably give it myself. We'd just entered the area which housed the modern and contemporary art and although modern art is not my favorite, I found myself drawn toward a painting on one of the far walls. I stared at Monet's Waterlilies, thinking about how I was drawn to other things in this museum as well. I listened to his deep, quiet voice and wondered what it would sound like if he whispered in my ear. I do that a lot, wonder, I mean.

He led the rest of the group to where I stood and began explaining the Monet. He basically repeated what it said on the description on the wall, but he didn't have to read it. I stared at him, possibly a little too hard, while he spoke. He was slim, but I could see the distinct definition of his body under his dark grey sweater. His hair was messy in that perfect until I had all that hot sex way. He used his hands when he spoke, gesturing outward from himself. I had to hold back the impulse to touch his chest. I took a step back, maybe a little too far back; I bumped the man behind me. I muttered a quick "sorry" to him and he touched my arm.

"It's quite alright," he replied, giving me a look that said it was more than quite alright.

I smiled uncomfortably and tried to focus my attention back on what our docent was saying. When I looked up I got the feeling he'd been staring at me, like he'd just turned his face away. I resumed my studying. He had a small silver nametag that he's never had before that read "Edward." What a nice name. Edward.

I stayed around the back of the group for the rest of the tour, that way I could stare to my heart's content without it being too noticeable. It ended back at the front of the museum; I debated following Edward to see where he went, but decided that was my one way ticket to crazy. Instead I found myself wandering back to the painting of the waterlilies.

I sat on a bench in front of it and imagined that I was at the edge of the pond, the only sound were the raindrops hitting the water. I was the only person for miles. I didn't work for a boss that I think secretly hated me, didn't live in an apartment building that may have a budding meth operation in the basement. It was just me, the pond with the waterlilies, the rain. I closed my eyes.

I heard someone clear their throat; I opened my eyes to find Angela sitting next to me. We had been friends since high school; she worked in the gift shop to help pay for her schooling. She was also the only one that knew about my fascination with a certain docent. "That's what? Twice this month so far? You should just volunteer here," she grinned at me.

"That would mean I might have to actually talk to him."

She laughed in this quiet way she did no matter where we were and took my arm, standing me up. "Want some coffee? My treat." We turned and went back to the front; there was a coffee kiosk outside near the entrance. Angela got coffee for us and I went to sit down in the nearby courtyard; I noticed another person I knew and groaned mentally. It's not that I didn't like Mike, but he was just a lot to take, and I wasn't in the mood. Plus I think he had a thing for me, or Angela, or both of us. He worked close by and met Angela for lunch sometimes. He saw me and waved; I waved back half heartedly.

Angela came back and set a cup down in front of me, "look who else is here," she mumbled, nodding her head toward someone standing across the courtyard. Edward. I felt all my internal movements stop for an instant when I looked at him. He looks like he should be on display inside the museum, not giving tours of it. I heard Mike start laughing and then I remembered he was there. Angela gave me an apologetic look. Mike grabbed my cup and took a big drink.

"Hot!"

I nodded, trying to keep my sarcasm to a minimum today; I opted for not saying anything. He handed the cup back to me; I took off the lid and stirred in cream.

"So, who was she talking about?" Mike directed at me. I have this bad habit of spilling the complete truth when I'm asked a possibly embarrassing question.

"One of the docent's," I should have stuck with saying nothing, it works for me. Mike turned to where I had been looking and started laughing again.

"That guy?"

"Nevermind."

"I'm pretty sure he's gay."

"He is not," Angela was trying to help, but once Mike got rolling he wasn't easy to stop. I tuned him out, pretending to look at him, but actually staring past his right shoulder to where Edward sat at a table by himself. A braver person would have gone to sit with him, but apparently that isn't me because I suddenly felt tied to my chair. At one point he looked up…at me? He probably thought I was some lonely cat lady that had nothing else to do but see the museum tour every couple of weeks. He was bound to have recognized me by now, I'm not exactly proud to say that this has been going on for a while. I don't want to say how long; let's just say you don't measure it in weeks. After a few minutes Angela had to get back inside, she excused herself and said she'd call me later. That left Mike, who apparently had no place to be. I stayed half zoned out, only half since I no longer had a buffer.

"Bella?"

Had he asked me something? I tried to search my memory, but it was mostly full of images of Edward. Drinking his whatever it was, reading the newspaper, running a hand through his hair. I was kind of hoping he'd do that last one again, it gave me an impulse to get up and ravage him. Oh right, back to the present.

"Um, what?"

"I asked you if you were doing anything tonight."

It didn't take a genius to figure out where this was headed. "Yeah, actually Angela and I were going out." Might as well save her too, he had on one occasion asked her out and then me right afterward when she rejected him. The man had no shame.

"Where to?" He wanted to tag along.

Think think think. "Pedicures." Not bad.

"Pedicures at night?"

"Yeah," he had a point, sort of. "It's tradition." I'm not sure where I got that one. He made small talk for a little while longer and then said he had to get back to work. I lingered over the last of my now lukewarm coffee, hoping that by some small miracle, ok big miracle, that Edward would rush over and declare his love for me, even lust wouldn't be so bad. After ten minutes or so of that not happening, I got up to throw my cup away back near the kiosk. I was browsing their magazines when I began to get that feeling that someone was right behind me. I didn't want to turn around; I'm not entirely sure why.

It was Edward, he stood almost directly behind me; he leaned past me to grab a New York Times and for a split second I felt his chest bump my shoulder. I stood immobile like a complete fool, holding a random magazine I'd picked up to look busy, while he paid for his newspaper. I tried to look at him through my peripheral vision; he was looking at me strangely. "It's upside down."

Did he just say that to me? What the hell was he talking about? "What?" I chanced a look at him; he looked like he was trying not to smile.

"Your magazine, it's upside down." Edward looked down to the magazine and back up to me.

Of course it is, "oh, I know." Ok, that was stupid. He chuckled at what I assumed to be my ineptness, but made no move to walk away.

"I'm Edward," he put his hand out to shake mine. I dropped the magazine back onto the rack and shook his hand. It was cool and soft, not girl soft, guy soft. I held it for maybe a second too long before we let go.

"Bella…I don't have a cat." Oh my God, shut up.

He raised an eyebrow at me, but didn't ask, thank goodness. I didn't know how I would have been able to explain that. "Were you getting more coffee?" So he _had_ seen me at the table or he'd at least seen me throw my cup away. What does that mean? Probably nothing. What had he just asked me?

"Uh, I'm fine," I said it like I was asking a question. I knew I should have just said yes, I'd love some coffee, I'd love to sit and talk with you for hours until you fall madly in love with me, yes that would be lovely.

"Oh, alright, well it was nice meeting you. I'll see you in what? A couple weeks?" His eyes were bright as he said it. I was mortified. He knew I came in all the time which meant he must know about my obsession, or at least enough that he could jump to the right conclusion. Crap.

I tried to think of anything I could say that might make me look like less of an idiot, but all I could come up with was an uncomfortable laugh and a mumbled "maybe." He smiled half way at me and took a step forward as if he was going to say something. Instead he gave me a small nod and walked away, back to his table.

My stomach fluttered on the short drive home. I talked to Edward, ok well actually he talked and I acted like I've never been in contact with humans before. He smiled at me though, that was nice, really nice.

As I walked in my front door the thought crossed my mind that maybe he had more than just a passing interest in me. Is that plausible?

I doubted it.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone. Which, by the way, is briefly considered in this chapter.

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Two

She was here again. I don't really understand why she tours the museum so often, but it's not the why that I'm interested in. It's her. I love watching her look at the art; it's like she's really there, like she can feel it. She goes to another place or something.

I noticed her the first day she came in to see Angela and she's been at the forefront of my thoughts ever since.

I'm thinking about her when I get home, thinking about the way her voice sounded. I'd never heard her speak before. It was soft and a little husky, with this dry edge to it that I found very amusing. As for the things she said, well I found that wholly amusing as well. I think I make her uncomfortable, but I don't know why that would be. She makes me uncomfortable, but in a really good way. She has a sort of innocence about her that makes me want to put my arms around her, makes me want to protect her.

I don't know why I've never talked to her before. Well, yeah I guess I do. I don't date. I did in high school and a little in college, but it hasn't appealed to me the way I think it's supposed to. That makes me sound defective or something, but it's true. I've never felt a real spark with anyone. My last girlfriend, two years ago, says she broke up with me because I stopped paying attention to her. In a way, she was right. I was tired of her petty problems and the way she would size up another woman based solely on what she was wearing. She was beautiful, but very unattractive. The more I got to know her, the more I realized how painfully self conscious she was; she would lash out to make herself feel better. So, yes, I stopped paying attention to her; in her mind that was the biggest sin you could commit.

After that, I pretty much gave up. I started working, I'm an artist; I feel like we're a dying breed. I paint mostly; I share studio space with a couple other starving artists downtown. I also take pictures, but that's more of a hobby. I started volunteering at the museum in a somewhat naïve attempt to get my foot in the door. But there are people coming next week to look at my work and I've made sales to private collectors, so I do alright. Not as well as I could be doing, but I make enough that I don't have to get a second job.

I work in my apartment sometimes too; it has a second bedroom that I have no use for so I use it as a makeshift studio. Lately I've been practically living in it; I've been inspired. It started out as one painting, but has since become a series. After the first time she came in, I couldn't get her face out of my head. So I painted her. I thought I would be fine after that, but then she came to tour the museum.

I've made something for every time I've ever seen her. Whether it's a painting, which take longer to do, a sketch, one time I just used a piece of notebook paper and a pen. I was hoping that letting it out would help me get her out of my head, but it didn't. If anything it made my memories, however few there are of her, more vivid.

I know I probably sound crazy; I don't even know this girl. That's part of the reason I tried to talk to her today. Part of me was hoping that she would be shallow or rude so I could just forget about her. Another part was tied in knots because I knew she couldn't possibly be that way. And she wasn't; she was awkward and charming and kind. Yes, that's a lot to get out of our somewhat stilted minute of conversation, but I'm pretty good at reading people. And I think too much.

The next day was Saturday and I wasn't due in to the museum. Normally, I go to the studio on Saturdays and hole myself up all day. For some reason though, today I decided to give myself time off. I took a quick trip to the bookstore to pick up a book they'd ordered for me and then I took a walk downtown. It was December; the height of the rainy season, but today was one of those rare perfect days where the sun comes out and takes the chill out of the 45 degree day. I had on a black t-shirt and coat, the coat left open. I stuck my hands in my pockets as I turned a corner; I was headed to a bakery that made the best desserts I've ever tasted. I always have a craving for desserts during the winter. That's when I saw her.

I'd never seen Bella outside the confines of the museum before; I didn't think that would make a difference in how she looked, but it did. She looked lighter, more at ease with herself. Whenever I see her, she always looks intense, like she's right on the edge of something. I should go say hello, we knew each other now, right? Besides, she was with Angela who I actually did know. I felt awkward; I never feel awkward. I couldn't think of anything to say, but I went up to them anyway.

They were walking out of a great old movie theatre that specialized in indie films when I came up to say hello. Angela saw me first and waved; I noticed her mumble something to Bella, who looked up, eyes wide. As I crossed the street, Bella's face blushed bright crimson. I wasn't even there yet, which made me wonder even more about what this girl was like. I found myself tongue tied by the time I was near them. I smiled and hoped one of them would talk first.

"Hi Edward," Angela gave a friendly smile, perhaps a little inquiring. I was guessing Bella had told her about our meeting the afternoon before.

"Hi Angela, hi Bella," I smiled halfway, trying to make her feel more comfortable. She finally raised her head enough to meet my eyes and smiled; it looked like she was holding back a bigger smile. After a second I realized I was staring. "What are you guys up to today?" I felt a little silly asking that question, after all I had just seen them coming out of the movies.

"Oh, well I have to go into the museum pretty soon, inventory." Angela paused and glanced over at Bella, who was giving her a serious look. "I don't know what Bella's doing," she wasn't being subtle.

"I'm…see I have to," she stopped to breathe. "I'm not doing anything really." She played with her fingernails, looking down again. I wanted to offer to take her out, but I didn't want her to feel this way all evening. Should I just leave her be?

"Would you like to come with me then? I'm going to St. Honore."I rarely do what I should.

She surprised me by saying yes, or rather nodding yes. Angela brightened and looked at her watch. "Oh perfect timing, I have to get going. I'll talk to you tomorrow," she squeezed Bella's arm. "Bye, have a nice time you guys."

With that, she went to retrieve her car leaving me and Bella alone. I still had my hands in my pockets; I felt like a teenager. I cleared my throat, "shall we?"

"Ok," she tightened her coat around herself.

"We match," I looked at her as we started walking. She gave me a quick look and furrowed her eyebrows in question. "Our coats are the same," we were both wearing black wool coats, not exactly uncommon and not the most clever thing I could have said, but it was all I could think of at the time.

She lifted half her mouth in the semblance of a smile. "Where is it that we're going?" Bella seemed to realize something that made her jump back into the present.

"St. Honore, they make really good desserts," I gazed at her, imagining feeding her a certain dessert, her licking it off my fingers. Or the other way around, I'm not picky. Maybe I should buy a lot of dessert…

"Hmm," she said quietly to herself.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just didn't peg you as a dessert person," she started to blush again.

I stared at her, "why's that?"

"I don't know, you just, you look like someone who…doesn't eat a lot of junk food." She looked straight ahead and worried her lip between her teeth. I wanted to put that lip between _my_ teeth.

"Dessert isn't junk food, sometimes it's necessary," I smiled to myself and mumbled, "sometimes it's fun." I hadn't meant to say that out loud; I looked at her but she didn't seem to have heard me.

I tried to stay present for the rest of our walk, but all I could think about is what chocolate would taste like coming off her skin. By the time we got to St. Honore, I had worked myself up pretty well. I opened the door for her and we were immediately greeted by the smell of sugar and something else, a bread and pastry type of smell. We walked to a table and sat down. "I thought you just wanted to pick something up?" She was looking at me over a menu.

"I do, but this is a good excuse to have more. That was a long walk." She grinned at me and went back to the menu. She made 'hmm' noises while she read which were driving me crazy. I was very close to grabbing her hand and dragging her into a dark corner when the waitress came to take our order. We each ordered gâteau au chocolat. She stifled a laugh when the waitress left. "What?"

"I don't know what I ordered; it just sounded good."

I laughed which just made her blush a lot; I was going to mention it, but I was afraid it would just make it worse. "It's chocolate cake, this one has some dark chocolate too. It's delicious." I leaned forward, my forearms on the table. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" That sound again…it gave me a definite reaction.

"Why'd you agree to come out with me? I mean, I just met you yesterday."

She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking, "I don't know…I like you, you're interesting."

I think I was visibly glowing at her, "I like you too."

When the slices of cake came, Bella tried a bite and made the 'hmm' sound again without the 'h'. "Are you alright?" She asked.

"Yes, why?"

"You look flushed." She licked a bit of the powdered sugar off her lips and raised her eyebrows at me. I tried to steer the attention away from my nearly frenzied state by saying that she was one to talk, but to her credit, it didn't make her blush. "I know, I can't help it."

We both finished our dessert and I ordered another two slices to take home; I paid the tab when the waitress came back and grabbed the bag with the food, rushing Bella out the door. It was early evening and as much as I wanted to prolong our walk, I also wanted other things that wouldn't be appropriate to do on a city sidewalk. She lived nearby in a building that had seen better days. As soon as we got to her doorstep I regretted having hurried us to her home. I had wanted to get to know her better, to learn about her life. I made a decision then not to get ahead of myself, to take it slow. For as long as I could stand. I could tell she was nervous about the doorstep moment, but there was one thing that I absolutely could not leave her without doing. If she'd let me. "Can I kiss you?"

Her eyes went wide for a moment, then her lips parted and she nodded slightly. I stepped closer and put a hand to her face; her rose and cream skin was softer than I'd imagined. I leaned in and saw her eyes begin to close, her lips still parted ever so slightly. I covered her mouth with mine. She was warm and as our kiss deepened, she relaxed and let me in.

She tasted like chocolate.

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Author's Note: Think he can hold out? Personally, I enjoy the foreplay.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, they make my day.

Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone.

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Three

It had been over week and all he'd done so far is kiss me. I think he's trying to take it slow or something, which is sweet and infuriating. He doesn't even remotely attempt to try anything else, that's the thing that gets me. I haven't had to swat his hands away (not that I think I would) even once; he's way too much of a gentleman. Don't get me wrong, the man is very creative about his kissing, but it's not enough. That doesn't really make me sound so good, does it? Well I don't care, my lust had gone over the deep end; I could feel it spinning out in all directions.

I write articles for magazines freelance; I had one due by the end of the day today and I can't concentrate. I'll start thinking of something to write and it will come out as "I want to have sex with Edward." We've met up three times since that first date. The first time was because he'd forgotten to give me my slice of cake from the evening before. I took the cake and opened the fridge, leaning over to put it on the top rack. When I stood back up and closed the door, he spun me around by the waist and pushed me back against the fridge. He kissed me like he was going off to war. I had my hands in his hair, pulling him closer. And then without any warning he just stopped, it was like flipping a switch. He kissed the tip of my nose and pulled away. At the time I didn't mind him stopping; our first date had only been the night before.

The second time was two days after that; we met early in the day for coffee, innocent enough right? He was going to the museum for the morning and then to his studio after that so this was the only free time he would have that day. It was busy and we found ourselves standing in line; he stood behind me, the tips of his fingers were in the front pockets of my jeans. I was focusing on keeping my breathing steady; he was close enough that he would have been able to tell if I started panting. He lowered his head to rest it on my shoulder; he tilted it so his lips were next to my ear. "What would you like?" He voice sounded low and throaty, he may have been asking what kind of coffee I wanted, but what I heard was "I want to make you moan." Close, right? Well regardless, I almost did.

The last time was Friday, he took me out to dinner and then we went out for drinks. Dinner went fine; mostly he asked me questions about myself. We went to a bar afterward, a DJ was just getting started and already the dance floor was packed. Both of us had two drinks and then he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. I should point this out; Edward can dance. I had never dated a guy that could do anything but the side to side shuffle during slow songs, so this was a huge turn on all by itself. The DJ started playing this rock song with a slow, pulsing beat. It was a woman with a sexy, gravelly voice singing about wanting to sleep with some guy. At least that's the meaning I got from it. Edward pulled me so I was facing him, my feet between his. He stared right into my eyes and pressed my hips into his. I could see his eyes moving from mine to my neck, my chest, and back up to my face. He didn't even have to touch me. He kept his arms around me though during the song, moving his hands slowly along my back. At the end of the song he kissed me; I felt his tongue brush mine and that was my undoing.

We'd agreed not to see each other so we could both get some work done. It was Sunday and Edward was spending the day at his studio and I had tied myself to my laptop so I could write my article. It was a puff piece about Christmas events in town and I had all kinds of papers strewn about my small kitchen table. On top of a small stack was my cell phone. I'd been getting text messages from Edward all week asking me random questions. What's your favorite holiday? Favorite color? Where's the farthest you've ever traveled? I asked him the questions back and after a while he started answering and asking them in the same message. I saw my phone light up and I looked at the new message. "Red or white wine? I like red." I sent him a message back and then put my phone face down so I wouldn't see it light up again. I really needed to get to work.

Four hours and three text messages later (ok so I moved the phone back to its original position), I e-mailed my finished article. It was eight o'clock and I stared at my phone, debating on whether I should call him. I didn't want to bother him if he was in the middle of something. The last text I'd gotten from him was two hours before. I turned my phone off silent and left it on the table. I looked out across to the living room window; it was raining. Moving to the fridge, I went in search of something to eat. There wasn't much in there. I went to the cupboards which also left a lot to be desired. I pulled out a bag of tortilla chips, went to the fridge and grabbed a jar of salsa. I sat on the sofa in the living room and turned on the television. I switched it to an old black and white movie and reached back to pull the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around me.

I was just opening the bag when my buzzer went off. I hopped up, you know who I was hoping it was, and answered it. It was Edward. I let him in and opened my door slightly. I ran into the bathroom to see what I looked like. My hair was down and all over the place, I had no makeup on (not that I really wore any to begin with), and I wore a dark blue t-shirt with grey pajama pants. I looked like I'd just gotten out of bed, but there was no time for anything else. Edward knocked even though the door was open.

I tried to act casual when I opened the door. He was holding a pizza; he smiled. "I was taking a chance in assuming you haven't eaten yet." He raised his eyebrows at me. It gave him a boyish look that made me want to hug him. I let him in the rest of the way.

"I haven't," I led him into the kitchen to grab paper towels. He also carried a plastic bag with a bottle of red wine and a six pack of sodas in it.

"I wasn't sure what you'd want. I have water too, but I left it in my car."

I laughed at that and took the bag from him. I pulled a soda off the ring; I was afraid if I had any wine I would do something to embarrass myself, like jump him. I wanted to jump him, but I didn't want to do it inebriated. I had no real plan, but I was going to give it a shot anyway. I moved to the living room which was lit by the television and the small amount of light from the kitchen. I snatched up my previous dinner and put it away. When I got back Edward had sat down on the couch and put the pizza box down on the coffee table; he looked relaxed and I wondered if he was anywhere near as worked up as I was. I sat down next to him and he put the blanket down over my lap, it was a small act, but it made my heart swell.

We ate and watched the movie together in companionable silence. He said that he'd seen the first half before, but never the end. Once we were done eating I rested into his side and he put an arm over my shoulders, anchoring me in place. He kissed the top of my head.

I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep until I opened my eyes, sometime later. A different old movie was playing; Edward and I were in the same position as before. He must have felt me stir, "morning," he mumbled into my hair. So much for my seduction plan, I couldn't even stay awake for it. I leaned up and looked out the window; it was still dark and rainy. I asked him what time it was and he said it was a little after ten o'clock; I'd only fallen asleep for half an hour. He put an arm around me and pulled me back down to face him so we were perpendicular to each other. He ran a thumb over my mouth and moved forward to kiss me. It was gentle at first, tender, but then I felt him start pushing me back against the couch. I moved more than willingly. He moved his body so it was between my legs; I moved one leg up so my knee was hitched up over his hip. We stayed that way for a while and I could feel his breathing speed up. He reached a hand under the hem of my shirt, tracing my waistline. It made my breath catch in my throat and I let out the smallest of sighs, but it seemed to be enough to bring Edward to some sort of awareness. I felt his body loosen around me as he pulled his face away from mine. He brushed his fingers through my hair and gave me a light kiss. He readjusted us so we were on our sides, him behind me. I felt him nuzzle into my neck, planting a quick kiss.

I was both frustrated and exhilarated; I wasn't exactly upset, but I wish he'd stop being such a damn decent guy. I felt his breathing slow as we both calmed down.

We did sleep together that night, but it was not even close to what I had in mind.

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Author's Note: The song I talked about during the bar scene is the actual song I listened to while I was writing the scene; I don't really know exactly what it's about (it tends to be a little abstract), but it sounds sexy as hell. I know this was a pretty dense chapter but I couldn't help it, I could talk about lust all day; hope you don't mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! The song I mentioned in the last chapter is Cold Light by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Also, I put up a picture of Bella's dress and Edward's suit which they wear later in this chapter.

Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone.

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Four

It's been almost three weeks; that's good enough…

No it's not.

What happened to getting to know her? I do know her; I feel like I know practically everything about her. Why is that? Because all we do is talk. Well, that's not all we do, but it does take up most of our time. Granted, it was my idea and it was good in theory. But I didn't take into account how alluring she could be; I'm not even sure if she was trying.

Just two weeks ago we went to get coffee and I didn't think I'd make it to the front of the line. Inside it smelled like bread and pastry which reminded me of our first date. Which reminded me of chocolate, which brought to mind what I wanted to do with it. She stood in front of me in line and I could smell her hair. I put the tips of my fingers in her pants pockets, trying to will myself not to push my hands further down. Although semi-public sex is not something I'd be against, just not now.

The closest I came to giving up on going slow was the night we fell asleep on her couch. Before that, she'd woken up from a cat nap and the way she looked made me want to hold her and never let go. I felt something inside me give way, but up to that point I couldn't really name what that was. I decided to go for it, no matter how short a time it had been, I'd never felt this way about anyone. Then I realized we were on her couch, the TV was on; this wasn't the way I wanted it to happen. I wanted to give her what she deserved.

So now it isn't so much a matter of taking it slow, but waiting for the right time. I've been trying to get a feel for what she wants, but it's difficult short of actually asking her. And I don't want to make her feel embarrassed or pressured if she's not ready. I know she likes me, that she may more than like me, but does she want me as much as I want her? It's not easy to tell. She seems so in control of herself, sometimes it makes me feel like a horny teenager.

Friday will be the third week that we've been dating. We've had the relationship talk, not that we really needed to. I told her I wasn't seeing anyone else, that I had no desire to. I stopped short of telling her the way my perspective had changed since I first saw her. Before, I would notice women, sometimes it's hard not to, but I also didn't really care that much. Not enough to pursue anything anyway. And then Bella happened. After that first day even, I could feel things start to shift. Now I've found that women are in two categories, there's Bella, and then there's everybody else.

Friday also happens to be the night of a museum Christmas event that I've been asked to attend; I was going to tell them no, but then decided it might be good for networking. Plus it'll give me an excuse to show Bella off. She bought a new dress, mostly I think because Angela made her, but she won't show it to me. She says it makes her self conscious, which is absurd. When I tell her she's the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen, she just says that I'm biased.

The day of the party I wasn't allowed to come over early to see her get ready. Angela spent most of the afternoon helping Bella; personally, I had no idea what could possibly take that long, the party didn't start until 7:30. Angela was dressing at Bella's as well, but she wasn't coming with us. She was on her third date with a graduate student in her department at the university. Bella told me she was head over heels for him. I was happy for her; Angela was one of the sweetest women I'd ever met. It took me thirty minutes to get ready and that included a shower. I made the mistake of getting ready too early though and then I had to stand to keep my suit from getting wrinkled. It was a black three piece suit with a white shirt underneath; it looked decent, but was really hot. After a while, I just took it off and put it back on a hanger until it was time to leave.

At 7:15 I was on my way; I gave Bella a call and was given the all clear to pick her up. I found myself getting nervous on the drive over, but I didn't know why. Angela answered the door; she had on a short, black sweater dress and flats. She smiled and said hello, looking a little shy. "Hi, you look lovely," I told her.

She said thank you and then pointed to her feet, "he's a bit shorter than I am. You look very nice too." She made a circling motion with her hand and I turned in a circle for her, chuckling.

"Will it do?" I asked.

She sighed, "yes I suppose," and then she grinned broadly at me. "Bella will love it."

As if on cue, I heard Bella call out from her bedroom, "am I allowed to come out yet?" I looked to Angela who nodded.

"Yes," Angela called back.

When Bella walked out I almost gasped. She had on a deep violet silk dress. It was cut in a V very low in the front with the straps meeting around the back of her neck. It had a sash which was tied around her waist in a loose bow; the bow reminded me of a wrapped gift, a gift I suddenly wanted desperately to open. It fell softly at her knees; looking farther down I noticed she was wearing black heels which made her legs look even longer than they already were. I'd been standing there without speaking for I'm not sure how long, but I didn't care. Finally, she took a step forward and I looked back to her eyes. I made the same circling motion with my hand that Angela had made and she looked at me, confused. "I want to see the whole thing;" I licked my lips. She noticed. She did a little turn for me, when she did it lifted the dress ever so slightly. I wished at that moment that Angela wasn't standing right next to me.

Angela looked at me and smiled, then walked over to the couch to grab a coat for Bella. I took it and helped her into it, taking an extra second to brush her shoulders with the tips of my fingers. I thought I felt her shiver, but I couldn't be sure. Angela and Bella said goodbye, Angela saying that she'd call the next day.

We all left and walked Angela to her car. After another round of goodbyes, Bella and I were alone. I contemplated telling her to forget the party and carry her back upstairs, but decided I still wanted to see her in that dress for a while longer. During the drive I stole as many looks at her as I could. Pulling into the parking lot, something occurred to me. "I've never seen you in heels Bella."

"That's because I don't wear them."

"Are you going to be able to walk in those tonight?" I asked, a little amused.

"No, so please don't let go of me tonight."

"Hmm, you definitely don't have to worry about that," I grinned at her.

I opened her car door and let her take my arm. We walked to the entrance of the museum, the outside was lit up and for once, we didn't need an umbrella. We could hear gentle strains of violins coming from inside. Once we went in, a man took our coats and handed us a ticket that I put in my pocket. The party was held in a large open ballroom to the back of the museum. Everything was softly lit, tables were set throughout the room, with an open space for dancing. A man with a silver tray approached us immediately with champagne; I took one and handed another to Bella. I led her deeper into the party. She was reserved, at first she didn't want to even remove her coat, but I tried to reassure her again as we moved toward a table. I touched the bare skin of her back and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "you look delicious. I can barely stop staring long enough to walk." I kissed her cheek and pulled out her chair.

The curator came to our table and introduced himself to Bella. He kissed her hand and called her beautiful, which brought a light pink to her cheeks. Luckily, the soft lighting made it almost unnoticeable to anyone but me. He talked to me for a while, calling different collectors over to meet me. The men were all very interested in Bella especially, which made me both proud and annoyed. After about an hour of making new connections, I excused us to take Bella out onto the dance floor. A new band was playing and the man's voice sounded eerily similar to Frank Sinatra. I showed off a tiny bit for a song, turning us across the floor like it was second nature to me. When the next song began it was slow; I wrapped my arm more tightly around Bella, bringing her closer. I had her hand in mine already; I brought it to my lips and kissed her palm. She just stared at me with those deep, chocolate eyes. After a minute she smiled and kissed me. I think it was then that I finally realized what I already knew. I brought her as close as I could and moved my mouth to her ear. "I love you." I stayed still for a moment, knowing there was a possibility she didn't feel the same way.

She pulled her head back to look at me; I couldn't read her expression. After a second her face softened. "I love you, Edward." There wasn't anything I could say to make the moment better. So I held her, moving to the quiet rhythms of the song.

* * *

Author's Note: It's getting closer ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Ok, this is the last chapter. Thank you to those that read the whole thing, extra thanks to those that liked it.

Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking that chocolate off someone.

* * *

Five

It was Wednesday and Christmas Eve and I was on my way to Edward's house. He'd told me he loved me the Friday before, he loved _me._ I still couldn't entirely wrap my head around it. I couldn't stop smiling and I felt a bit like I couldn't keep my feet on the ground. I figured the butterflies in the stomach feeling I always got when he was around would fade eventually, but now it seemed like it was even stronger. We're _in love._ I laughed quietly in my car; to anyone that may have seen me I probably looked crazy, but I didn't care. Edward loves me.

The previous Friday after the party, Edward drove me home, keeping a hand on mine the whole time. I had a feeling that night wouldn't be _the_ night, but it didn't matter as much anymore. He walked me inside and closed the door. He helped me out of my coat and set it on the couch, then pulled me into his arms, kissing me soundly. I felt one of his hands move to the exposed skin on my back, the other tightening around my waist. I had my arms around his neck in what I thought may have been a death grip, but he seemed to enjoy it. Our kiss deepened and I felt his tongue asking for entrance which I gave happily. We stayed that way for a while until I felt him soften the kiss and then smile against my mouth. Was he laughing? I pulled back enough to look at him in question. He just smiled some more. "I'm just happy." His eyes were bright as he said it which made me smile. He brought his lips to hover over mine, "I love it when you smile." He kissed me again until I thought maybe I would pass out, but that was ok; I knew he'd catch me. That was as far as it went that night; it left me breathless but not disappointed.

I was almost to Edward's apartment, which was admittedly, a lot nicer than mine. We'd decided to spend Christmas together and I voted on celebrating it at Edward's. We picked out a tree the previous weekend and decorated it together. Neither of us really had anything else to decorate with besides the tree ornaments; he offered to buy some, but I didn't mind. Edward called before I left to tell me he had a surprise. He sounded anxious which made me wonder what in the world could make him anxious; he was always so together. It made me a little nervous.

I had a Christmas present for him in the passenger seat. He'd told me a couple of weeks before that there was a photographer from the area that he was absolutely obsessed with. I found out through a publishing contact that this photographer had a new book that wasn't out yet. I pulled a few strings and was able to get a signed advance copy for Edward. I was a little nervous about giving it to him; I hoped he'd like it. Stuffed in my purse were stocking stuffers as well. Neither of us had stockings, but Edward made mention of it not being Christmas without them, so I was pretty sure he had bought us each one. I had bought him some chocolates, I noticed he often brought up his affinity for it, and a few small art supplies, nothing fancy.

It was almost dark when I pulled up in front of Edward's apartment. He buzzed me in and I began to think of a sneaky way I could get the stocking stuffers out of my purse. I hadn't come up with anything good when he opened the door, but it was soon forgotten.

Edward had no shirt on. I had never seen him without a shirt and my past assumption about how good he looked under his clothes was a vast understatement. His skin and hair looked damp from a shower; I think he noticed my mouth hanging open. He had on a pair of soft, worn looking trousers which hung low on his hips and gave me intense urges. He gave me a lopsided grin, "hi." I said hello which sounded kind of like a squeak in my head. I wanted to touch him to see how warm he still was from the shower. He took the wrapped gift with my purse sitting on top out of my hands and set them on the couch to our left. "I need to finish getting dressed, I'll be right back." Somewhere in my mind a voice screamed for me to stop him. I stood dumbly in the entryway, staring. As he turned to walk into his bedroom though, I reached out and grabbed a belt loop forcing him to turn and face me. He grinned mischievously, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. He grabbed me by the waist and lifted; I wrapped my legs around him. He was very warm.

Edward walked back until I was pressed against the door. His mouth went from mine to my ear, my neck, stopping to nip at it gently. My hands slipped over his damp skin, touching his chest, shoulders, wherever I could find purchase. I ran my nails softly up his back and he moaned in my ear. I felt a familiar coiling sensation at that and pulled my legs more tightly around him. I felt the pressure of the door removed and realized that we were moving. I opened my eyes and saw we were heading toward a half closed door, his bedroom. He used his bare foot to push the door open and then slowed down. Setting me down in the middle of the bed, he bit his lip, looking at me. I smiled, in case he was having reservations. I moved so my head was against a pillow and kicked off my shoes and socks, using the moment to take a breath. He chuckled and his gaze softened; leaning over me he pushed a strand of hair away from my face. I touched his face, tracing his cheekbone, moving down to his jawline. He moved onto the bed, one leg between mine. He took my hand and pressed it back into the pillows. I used my free hand to pull him closer, I thought he might have been afraid to put weight on me, but I wanted to feel it. I wanted to feel his body over mine. I kissed him and felt him start to relax.

We lay that way for a while, our legs tangled, enjoying the moment. After a few minutes though, I felt the heat start to rise from the both of us. We were breathless and I think we both knew that the moment was right. He'd released my hand and now they were both in his hair; he pulled his head up so his lips were barely touching mine. "I want you," he murmured. There wasn't anything I could say to that. I put my hand on his chest and pushed gently; we turned so I was on top of him. I straddled his lap and lifted my sweater off myself. Edward sat up then, moving us so our legs were around each other. He ran his hands over my shoulders, down my arms, his eyes following his movements. He kissed my collarbone, working his way across my shoulder he slipped the straps of my bra down. He traced over my chest lightly, intently focused on what he was doing. There was enough light coming through the open door that I could see him clearly. He looked…in awe. It filled me with more love than I thought a heart could hold. I raised his head so I could kiss him and he took my mouth eagerly, pushing me back down against the bed. He kissed my neck and I felt his fingers working at the button of my jeans. Once they were unfastened he snaked down my body, kissing between my breasts, taking his time. He lowered my jeans inch by inch, unaware of my heightening frenzy. Once they were off, thrown somewhere to the side, he came back up partway. He used a hand to move the waist of my underwear down a fraction, licking the new skin lightly. It made me shiver, which he took as encouragement. He pushed my leg over so he could better face the inside of my thigh; he ran his tongue across it until it met with my underwear. I ran my hands through my hair and sighed softly. I felt him smile against my leg and then hook his fingers into my waistband, pulling swiftly. It was the first time in my life I didn't feel self conscious; I felt like my whole life had been leading me in this direction, leading me to Edward.

He lay back over me and unfastened my bra; I could feel his patience draining from him. Mine was as well. When I made mention of him wearing more clothes than I was he grinned and stood beside the bed to take his trousers and underwear off. He was impressive. I sat up and swung my legs over the side the bed, pulling him to stand in front of me. I felt the planes of his stomach, my tongue darting out to taste him. I took him into my hand and I felt Edward's hands stiffen in my hair. I continued to roam until I heard his breathing quicken. "Bella," he breathed. "I need to be inside you." That was enough for me.

He grabbed me around the waist and moved us so we were lying across the side of the bed. He lay between my legs; I could feel him against me and I wrapped my legs around him, trying to pull him closer. Edward stopped then and looked at me, head tilted. I wasn't sure what he may have been thinking, but his eyes were bright, thoughtful. He lowered his head to kiss me and at that moment I felt him move in me. We stayed that way for a minute, getting used to the feeling. He started moving first, very slowly. Achingly slowly. I moaned into his ear and lifted my chest off the bed a fraction. He took that as a good sign and sped up, kissing my chest softly. We moved together until I felt his breathing become hitched; I was beginning to feel a tingling in my legs, my hands. He moved his hands then, one touching my face, the other grabbed one of my legs, pushing my knee so it was near his shoulder. I couldn't hold back any longer. I moaned his name quietly and my eyes fluttered closed, every muscle tightening around him. He kept moving and I felt him release a second later, moaning into my ear. For that moment it was just us, unaware of the world around us.

Edward's face was pressed into my neck and he was panting. I slowed my breathing and kissed his forehead. He kissed my neck and looked up, a lazy grin playing at his mouth. He ran a thumb over my lips. "I love you." He pulled me up so we could lay under the covers, we looked at each other a second before I buried my head in his chest. I moved a leg to rest over his hips before we both fell asleep.

When I woke up about an hour later, Edward was still asleep. I stretched and loosened myself from his embrace. Standing up, I looked around until I saw the white t-shirt Edward had been planning on wearing sitting on his dresser. I slipped it on and padded out into the living room. It was a little after nine o'clock. I emptied my purse and pulled out his gifts; I'd noticed two stockings tacked up over his fireplace. As quietly as I could I put his things inside, then moved his gift under the tree. Turning back toward the bedroom I saw that his second bedroom's door was open, which it never was when I was here. He had never said anything about the room being off limits, but I had a feeling he preferred if I wasn't in there. I knew he used it as a small studio space, but that was all. I walked over to stand in front of it, debating. "That's what I wanted to show you," his voice startled me. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom, his trousers back on. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, that anxious look back in his features. He bit his lip and then moved to the door, pushing it open. I followed him in and he turned on the light.

It was me, at least some of it was. There were different sized canvases leaning against all the available wall space. Edward moved me to one against the far wall. "Start there, they're in order." He stood behind me while I looked at the paintings. The first was me, sitting on a bench looking slightly away. I recognized the bench as the one I always sat on by the Monet at the museum. The second was my face, my hair was disheveled; I looked like I had a secret. Not all the pictures were of me. Some were stark, lonely looking pictures of a room with a shadowy figure standing always just at the edge of the frame. The last one was me although you couldn't see my face; I was sleeping, you could see fall of my waist, the rise of my hip under a blanket. My hand was in the frame, hanging slightly off a couch. They were incredible. "How long have you –"

"Since I first saw you."

I turned to face him and he bit his lip again, looking worried. I tilted my head and thought about that for a second. We'd felt the same way about each other for so long; there was so much time we wasted.

"I love them."

He released a held breath and took a step closer. "The museum wants to use them in a new exhibit. I showed them to the curator last week," he paused. "I called the series 'Bella'. It's completely up to you, if you don't want them shown that's ok. I don't want you to have to feel…so…exposed."

I thought about that, he had a point. But as I looked back at the pictures, I hoped there were other people in the world at this moment sharing the kind of love I suddenly knew Edward had for me. "Show them." I turned back around, Edward was beaming at me.

"Really?"

"Yes." I smiled at him.

He grabbed me in a hug that lifted my feet off the ground. We didn't say anything, we didn't need to.

Later after we'd eaten we sat on the couch, talking about inconsequential things. In the middle of a random story, I interrupted, "I can't wait anymore. I want you to open your present." I said it in a rush, not sure he caught it all.

He laughed and said ok. I hopped off the couch and grabbed it, setting it in his lap. He opened it gingerly, as if he was planning on saving the paper. He examined the cover of the book carefully, "Bella. This isn't even out yet. How did you?" He trailed off.

"Open it," I grinned and bit my lip.

He did and his mouth hung open. "Bella," he said again.

I fidgeted and waited for him to say something. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," he smiled broadly and hugged me. He looked back down at the autograph, tracing over it lightly. He smiled at me again. "Ok, your turn." He went to the tree and grabbed a gift; it was about a foot wide, a perfect square, and almost flat. I thought it was a book too until he put it in my hands. I opened it and my eyes went wide. It was a smaller version of the Waterlilies painting I loved so much. He turned the canvas over to the backside; a short message said '_To my love, the painting that started it all, Edward'._ "I knew how much you liked it, so I made you your own. It's just a little –" I silenced him by putting my fingers over his lips.

I looked at him, trying to convey what I couldn't say with words. I leaned forward then and kissed him. "I love you too," he murmured.

We opened our stockings after that, we figured we might as well; it was at this point technically Christmas. I was sitting on his lap; we were making out like teenagers. I felt him getting excited underneath me. "You know," he mumbled. I could see a mischievous grin beginning to form, "I have more chocolate in the kitchen. The melting kind," he raised an eyebrow at me. I suddenly understood why he had such a fixation with it.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I grinned back and stood up. He stood and took my face into his hands, staring at me for a second. He smiled fully and then let go, jogging into the kitchen. He followed me into the bedroom, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. I felt him behind me, trying to pull my shirt off. "What about the sheets," I teased. He tossed the container onto the bed.

He put his arms around me, kissing my neck, trailing his tongue to my shoulder. "I don't care about the sheets." He spun me around, putting a tiny amount of distance between us. "I love you Bella." His eyes were shining as he looked at me.

"I love you, Edward." I pulled us toward the bed. "Now come here and show me why you like chocolate so much."

end


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